Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

[asscreedkinkmeme]

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.2
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Welcome to the Brotherhood

∆ Comment anonymously with a character/pairing and a kink/prompt.

∆ Comment is filled by another anonymous with fanfiction/art/or any other appropriate medium.

∆ One request per post, but fill the request as much as you want.

∆ The fill/request doesn't necessarily need to be smut.

∆ Don't flame, if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything.

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∆ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!

List of Kinks
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion

Comments

Visions of Eden [4/?]

[(Anonymous)]

This is when Malik snapped back to his senses, though the horrors of what he heard and saw were still vividly clear in his mind. He jerked away from Altair’s grasp, trying to surpass the awful shutters that ran up and down his body, trying to keep down the bile that rose in his throat.

“Sick fuck.” He said, taking a step away, because he wanted nothing to do with Altair right now. He wanted to get away and take a bath, though he knew no amount of scrubbing would ever cleanse his mind of what he had seen. Those images would stay with him forever, keeping him up at night, never to let him sleep in peace again. “You—sick fuck!” He said, louder this time, more assured of his words. Because everything about this was wrong. It was awful, disgusting, terribly, utterly, wrong. For a moment, Malik was at a loss of words, trying to figure out exactly how to describe his outrage, as there seemed to be too many words stuck on his tongue now and too little that described all the wrongs justly. After a few minutes of muttering and shaking with Altair sitting calming looking at him with those dead eyes, Malik’s tongue snapped to attention and returned to the sharp-forked weapon it was supposed to be.

“Bastard.” He began, hand curling into a fist as the shaking turned from being caused by fear into that caused by hate. Pure and utter hate that he had not felt for a long, long time. “How dare you say such things? That—that—“ He pointed a trembling finger at the Apple sitting on the desk, not finding the proper word for it (he considered ‘monster’ but felt that was more so Altair then the Apple itself). “That thing is evil.”

This caused some sort of reaction to stir in Altair’s eyes as his gaze sharpened and narrowed at the Dai. “The Apple shows the truth.”

“Blasphemy!” Malik snapped, feeling strength return to his body. “You go against the Creed now? ‘Nothing is true’, remember that Altair? Or has that device destroyed your mind so much you forgot who you are?”

Altair’s body tensed. His own fists curled. “I know who I am.”

“Are you sure? For the past few months almost no one has seen your face. And those who have earn scars for doing so! The novice’s believe the ‘Great Altair’ to be a ghost—some story of legend! You do not step out of this room anymore. I am the one that keeps the Order going; I’m the one that people are looking to for answers now. They claim me to be a Master! And you!—You don’t eat or sleep—you have not seen your family in months! For god sake, Altair, your own son thinks his father is dead! He does not even know your name anymore! All you do is watch nightmares using that Apple. It’s poisoning you!”

The angry rant came to a stop, leaving Malik panting and out of breath. Both men staring the other down, refusing to let up or give in. And they stayed like this for a while, though time was irrelevant, until, finally, Malik lost the fighting stance and let his shoulders slump.

“Give me the Apple, Altair.”

These were not the right words. This was the farthest thing from ‘right’ Altair could think of. To simply give up the apple? How could he? Amber eyes flashed, gaze turning towards the golden orb sitting on the desk, only a few feet away. It pulsed a little faster, hummed a little louder. The look on Altair’s face grew distant, and Malik knew the Apple was drawing him in once again.

“I’m not letting—“

Altair was in front of him, standing between him and where the Apple sat, a dark look crossing his face.

“I will not ask again. Give me—“

“No.” Then Altair moved. He moved much faster than Malik remembered he could—much faster then he recalled any normal man could. In front of him, then behind, gripping his shoulders and shoving him back. Malik hit the nearest wall, bracing himself to push off until a weight pushing him back against the hard surface, strong hands forcing him still. He felt lips press against his ear as Altair spat out, “Neither you nor anyone else will take away what is rightfully mine.”

Re: Visions of Eden [4/?]

[bluesasarai.livejournal.com]

anymore chapters to this story coming soon? :)

Re: Visions of Eden [5/?]

[(Anonymous)]

That was enough. Malik growled, his only hand shooting down to grab one of his throwing knives. However, he had forgotten Altair’s new speed and only just managed to get his fingers around the hilt when the Master noticed, pulling his arm back up, twisting it behind his back. With a sharp pull, the knife clattered to the floor as Malik gasped.

A hand reached under his robs, grabbing all the remaining throwing knives and tossed them aside. Malik squeezed his eyes closed, listening as his only weapons became useless to him. That same hand roamed for a moment, as if looking for any other hidden weapons, before it paused, coming to a halt on Malik’s stomach. He glared, turning his head back at an odd angle so he could see Altair’s face. Malik sneered.

“And what do you plan on doing now? Kill me?” He spat out, flexing and relaxing the muscles in his shoulders, trying to figure out how to get back the movement of his only arm.

Apparently, Altair did not approve of his vocalization. It seemed Malik was being ‘insubordinate’ he could see, written all over the Master’s face. At such a look, Malik let a half-smirk twitch against his lips. Maybe Altair wasn’t as in control as he thought he wa—

“No, Malik.”

His eyes went wide, suddenly, and the next sarcastic remark died on his tongue, twisting itself into a sharp, pained cry. The hand twisting his arm back was pulling, pulling hard enough in the wrong direction so his arm bent further, strained into a twist that wasn’t humanly possible.

“I don’t want to kill you.”

And, in another second and hard jolt, a clear ‘pop’ sounded, followed closely by Malik screaming out as his arm was dislocated from his shoulder.

Behind him, Altair was laughing again, a sick sort of twisted sound that caused another wave of nausea to sweep over Malik, though he was sure that was also partly from the pain setting his body ablaze.

“See, I only want to make an example of you.” The hand holding his arm let it go and another cry left Malik’s throat as the weight of it fell, causing another jolt of pain as if swung limp and worthless next to him. Horror crossed the Dai’s face, a sudden look of realization, as he tried to move a finger only to cause more pain running up his body, that he now had no working arm to protect himself. And that awful voice was still talking to him. “I want it so, every time another looks upon you, you they will think twice about calling anyone but me ‘Master’.”

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, only half hearing what the other was saying, trying over and over again to get some mobility out of his arm, not wanting to think about how nothing but pain gave him reply. At least it was still there. At least he could still feel it. Though, Altair did not like being ignored. Grabbing Malik by the shoulder, he turned him around, face to face, eyes bright with that spark of insanity. Ebony met amber and couldn’t look away. Altair smiled once more; glad he had captured the other’s attention.

“You speak so highly of the Creed,” He said in just above a whisper. “So why not prove how faithful you truly are?”

Suddenly, everything was a blur. It was a combination of Altair’s quick movements and the sudden pain that practically made Malik black out as he was pulled by the arm (too scared to resist in fear of it being fully ripped off) and then thrown onto the untouched bed. There was no time to make himself more comfortable or to even move enough for a possible escape as the bed dipped and Altair was above him.

The anger had vanished, replaced now by a pleasant air, soft and almost, almost, understanding. Forgiving. And maybe it would have worked on someone else, anyone else, but Malik knew better. The man above him was the reason he only had one arm. He was the reason he might have none soon and he knew better than to trust that look. Because those eyes gave it away, clouded over and distant. The Apple was at work, causing more of the poison to invade.

He flinched away when cold fingers touched his cheek. When had he started to cry again?

That smile, and for a moment Malik saw a shadow of what Altair used to be.

“Dear Malik…do not judge me so harshly for what I am about to do. I simply want you to remember, that everything is still permitted.”

Re: Visions of Eden [5/?]

[(Anonymous)]

good lord, writeanon, this literally gave me chills

Re: Visions of Eden [5/?]

[(Anonymous)]

vfsjahbfgbwhagrjew

Just what OP needs after a mind-numbing business trip - HNNGGGG